


Pros and CONs

by voodoo_child



Series: Pros and CONs [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, F/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, possible triggers, rated for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoo_child/pseuds/voodoo_child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One woman's experience at a Supernatural Convention in Las Vegas. (set a few months in the future)  </p><p>Or</p><p>The one where Richard Speight Jr. is an unlikely sort of hero, Kim Rhodes is the most fantastic human being alive (this part is 100% true), pretty much everybody swears a lot (hence the rating), and two sisters worm their way into the hearts of the Supernatural cast.</p><p> </p><p>Oh, and Jared Padalecki thinks that hugs make the world go 'round.  Weirdo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pros and CONs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VaWest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VaWest/gifts).



> My friend was having a pretty hard low one day, so I took it upon myself to cheer her up. This is the result of that. It's now being posted because she needs some more cheering up today.
> 
> Yes, I know Richard Speight Jr. is happily married. And I understand Ty said he was drugged (sorry-don't buy it for an instant). I tried not to make him into _too_ much of a villain. (And I also know that he seemed to jump on the rehab bandwagon pretty quickly. Addictions are difficult to overcome and it's hard to even admit to them. Sometimes interventions work, but sometimes they also end with the person further in denial of their addiction. But, as this story is meant to cheer up my friend, that was not my main focus, which is why he went as peacefully as he did.)  
>  Creation Entertainment kinda comes out looking like a bunch of douche-bags near the end. I don't know any of the people who work for or run Creation, but I'd like to think if anything like this were to actually happen, they'd handle it better.
> 
> It's very easy to tell that I have absolutely no idea how conventions like this are set up in regards to room placements and who stays where. I hope that does not interfere with the telling of this piece. 
> 
> I used some of my friend's real-life in this story. I didn't use her name, but I do have her permission to post this. 
> 
> I realize it might seem weird that the main character's emotions are not exactly stable. One might even go so far as to say she comes across like a Mary-Sue, with how chaotic she is and how everyone seems to just accept it. I tried to stay as realistic as possible when it comes to the main character's PTSD. There are highs and there are lows and, especially in stressful situations--which, honestly--cons can be, the person with PTSD can experience both extremes in rapid succession. I wish everyone who suffers from PTSD had a support network of people who are understanding and helpful--I tried to make sure, since the other characters realize that she's got PTSD, that they offered support in the best ways they knew, even if it wasn't always the most helpful. 
> 
> Also, the whole, romantic piece--I hope it turned out OK. It's very easy, in situations where one person essentially rescues another, for attachments to form. Maybe romantic, maybe not. Anyway, it can be confusing for all involved. 
> 
> Another also--the term _bodily autonomy_ is used not in reference to any sort of abortion debate, but rather, in reference to rape and sexual assault.
> 
> And yet another also--there is a sequel, in case anyone is interested.

.

..

...

“What do you mean, no?”

“Just what I said, your royal doucheness, no.”  Emily tensed when fingers curled around her arm.  Shit, she wished she’d gone with her sister back to the hotel room.  “Let me go.”  She tried to jerk her arm free, but no go.  The drunk patron next to her had a grip like a vice.  “Seriously, dude, let me go.”

“Why you gotta be a bitch?”

“Let me go or this whole place is going to hear me scream.”  Don’t panic, don’t panic, dontpanic, **DONTPANIC!**  She kept repeating the mantra in her head.

“Jesus, what a cunt.”  She tried to jerk her arm free again, just to feel his fingernails begin to dig into her skin.  She was seconds away from screaming for help when help arrived and forced the hand around her arm to loosen.

“Alright, Ty, I think you’ve had enough.”  Ah, so that was who had taken the seat beside her.  She’d been just tipsy enough not to recognize Ty Olsson when he sloppily propositioned her.  When it turned into a more forceful interaction, she didn’t give a shit who he was, just that he let her go.

Emily turned toward Ty and the new arrival, and having sobered up quite a bit, recognized Richard Speight Jr as the one who’d come and stood between them, thankfully blocking Ty’s attempt to reach her.

“For fuck’s sake, _Dick_ , I was just talking to the lady.”

“Right.  And when she wakes up tomorrow with a bruise in the shape of your hand print, you’re just going to stick to that story that you were just talking?”

“Everything OK here?”   _Finally_ , the bartender came back to where they were.

“No, it’s not.”  Emily found her voice.  “He needs to leave.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me I need to leave?”  Ty practically roared, trying and failing to get past Richard.  

“I’m the woman you just assaulted, and if you don’t get the hell out of here now, I will be pressing charges.”  She had no idea where this confidence was coming from.  Her insides were screaming at her to run--that she’d been in this situation before and it hadn’t turned out well for her.  Still, she stood her ground.  “I’m currently being stupid enough to allow them to get you out of here without any fanfare or attention drawn.  But I will not let you stay here and potentially assault someone else, or worse.”

“Page Joe Holmes down here.”  Richard instructed the bartender.  “He’ll be able to handle removing him.”  The bartender nodded and disappeared to the back of the bar.

“Fuck Joe.  And fuck you.  And fuck that stupid cunt.”  Ty flopped back onto his bar seat and began to bang his empty glass on the bar.

“I am so sorry.”  Richard looked over his shoulder at Emily and paused.  “I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”

“Possibly?” She surprised herself with how well she was controlling her emotions.  “I was here last year for the Supernatural con, and I was there earlier today.”

“No--I mean, yes.  I mean, you look fucking familiar.”

“She’s a slut for _dick_.”  Ty joined in the conversation when he realized no one was refilling his beverage.

“Fuck you, you misogynistic asshat.”

“Not helping.”  Richard, once again, had to keep Ty from lunging at her.

“You know, you can leave, you fucking prude.  Plenty of pussy to be found all over this fucking place.”  Ty slurred.

“Joe will be here momentarily.”  The bartender returned.  Ty began to bang his glass on the counter again.  “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Right.  I’ve had enough of this prude slut ruining my night.”

“I think I’m ready for my tab.”  The bartender nodded at Emily and headed towards the cash register.

“Listen, you don’t need to leave.  Ty will be out of here in just a moment.  Don’t let him ruin your whole evening.”  Richard tried to smooth things over just as another man approached them.  Fuck, why did she have to be surrounded by men?

“Ah, Ty.  Why am I not the least bit surprised?”  Emily could only assume this extremely large man was Joe.  “You OK, ma’am?”

“If you can guarantee me that he won’t be doing this to anyone else, ever,”  She gestured to the red marks on her arm, “I won’t press charges against him or Creation or whomever.  I don’t give a shit who he is or who he thinks he is, but this **won’t** happen again.”

“Absolutely.”  Joe nodded solemnly before hefting Ty off his stool.  “Let’s go, numb nut.  I swear to god, we had issues with this sonuvabitch last year.”  Richard scowled, but nodded, and watched as Joe removed Ty from the bar.

“Listen,”  he paused, waiting for a moniker.

“Emily.”  She supplied as she settled up with the bartender.

“Oh my god.  I remember who you are.”

“Congratulations.”  She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.  “Fuck you.”  She jerked her arm successfully out of his grasp and spun to face him.  “Why the fuck would you grab me?  After what you just saw him do to me?  And if you remember who I am, then you remember why you were such a big deal to me last year.  Seriously, don’t fucking touch me.”  

She needed to get out of public view now.  Before she started crying and hyperventilating.  Shit, she’d gone to therapy.  She was supposed to be past this.  She was supposed to be over having panic attacks every time someone touched her.  For fuck’s sake, Richard had been the first one in forever that had hugged her and she hadn’t freaked out over it.

But where the fuck was she supposed to go?  If she went back to the hotel room, her sister would be freaked out.  All hell would break loose and she’d really lose her shit then.  But she couldn’t exactly stay in front of a bunch of people and freak them out with her freak out.  And she was definitely NOT about to go off by herself.  Fucking fucking fuck.

“Listen, Emily?”  Richard’s voice broke through her racing thoughts.  “How about if I send Kim a text and have her come sit with you outside for a bit?  I’m sure she and Felicia would love to keep you company for a while.”

“I just need to be alone for a minute.”  Right--where?

“Look,” he reached out towards her, but stopped before she could shy away, letting his hand drop to his side.  “It will just take a few minutes for them to get here.  They love meeting fans of the show.  And...and I just don’t think you need to be left alone.”  Who the fuck did this guy think...  “You’ll think too much.”

“Oh.”  That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say.  “OK.”

“Yeah?”  He smiled, which prompted her to nod.  “Will you be OK for a minute in here while I call them?”  Her eyes darted around the bar and came to rest on an empty booth near the exit.  “I’ll be right outside the door, OK?  Nothing will get to you.  You just sit and I’ll have them here in just a bit.”

“Hey,” thirteen minutes and 43 seconds later, Richard walked back into the bar with Kim Rhodes and Felicia Day in tow.  “Kim, Felicia, I’d like you two to meet Emily.”  She could feel their gaze travel from her face to her reddened arm and then back.

“Hey.”  Emily’s gaze dropped to the table.  She felt their pity and she hated it.  Hated how weak she felt.  How out of control she felt.  How guilty she felt.

“So, Rich has been telling us about this cool fan of the show, and we insisted--”  Felicia began.

“Look,”  Emily interrupted, but couldn’t bring herself to look up at the two women.  “I know you’re trying not to mention why he dragged you down here.  I really am OK.  I’m not pressing charges, all I have is a few marks on my arm.  No biggie.  Really.”

“Sweetheart, it’s a huge fucking deal.”  Kim said, sliding into the booth across from her.  “Ty may be a coworker of mine, but that doesn’t give him the right to do what he did to you.  And while I may have no first hand knowledge of what you’ve been through, I can see the guilt written all over your face.  You have nothing, not one damned thing, to feel guilty about.  We’re here to support you, not to make sure you don’t press charges.  Hell, I honestly wouldn’t mind if you did.  He needs to learn he can’t just have whatever the fuck he wants.”

She tried--she really fucking tried, but her hands slid up to cover her face and she began to sob as quietly as possible.  Her body began to shake with the effort.

“Rich, your room has a lounge, right?”  Felicia asked.

“You wanna get her up there?”

“At least for a bit.”  Kim joined in.  “She’s going to keep this bottled up in a public setting.  She needs to let it out.”

“Alright.”

“Emily?”  Felicia waited patiently until she had her attention.  “Is there anyone we need to let know where you’re going?”  Emily quickly dried her eyes and tried to catch her breath.

“I can’t--I gotta get back to my sister.  She’s probably freaking out about where I’ve been.”  She patted her pants until she found her phone in her back pocket.  “OK, maybe not.”  She conceded, seeing no missed messages or calls.  “Still--”

“Would she want to come with us?”

“I don’t--I don’t know.”

“Give her a call.  She can meet up with us at the Masquerade Towers elevators.”

Once they were all safely tucked away in Richard’s suite, Kim and Felicia explained to Jennifer, Emily’s younger sister, what had taken place.

“I’m so sorry.”  Emily dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her sister’s waist.  “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Em.”  Jennifer dropped to the floor next to her and let Emily cry on her shoulder while she ran her hand through her sister’s hair.  “What I want to know is, what the fuck is being done about that bastard?”

“She said she’s not pressing charges.” Richard answered, feeling uncomfortable at being unable to do anything and feeling out of place as the only male in the room.

“Like hell, she’s not.  That fuck-wad assaulted her.  Look at her fucking arm!”

“I know, I know.   _I was there, remember_.”

“Don’t make me out to be the bad guy because I’d gone to bed.  She should have been safe.  She shouldn’t need to have someone with her to make sure she’s not assaulted.  Shit--she’s been going to therapy to try and get over before.”  Jennifer continued to try and soothe her sister’s crying.  “How the hell is she supposed to get past this one when she’s not past the first?”  Jennifer closed her eyes.  “Fuck--she was so close, and that dick had to go and ruin all of her hard work.”

“I know this won’t make it any better, but I’m sorry.”  Kim floundered after a few moments.  She knelt down next to the sisters.  “I wish there was something more I could say, something I could do to make this right.”

“Fry that asshat.”

“Jen--stop.”  Emily finally interjected.  She sat back and hurriedly wiped her eyes.  “I ruined last year’s con over Misha, and I’m ruining this year’s over Ty.  I’ll just...Lily can go with you the next three days.  She won’t fuck things up.”

“Wait--Misha?”  Richard asked.  Emily wanted to smack her forehead.  Why the fuck had she opened her mouth?

“Misha mentioned Karla.  Made it out to be a joke.  Said the character he played was deranged, but that he wasn't like that--most of the time.  Had her hyperventilating in the bathroom.  She’d been doing so much better after the photo-op with you.”

“I remember.”  No, he didn’t remember what Misha had said, but he did vaguely remember a woman named Emily in line for his autograph, obviously distraught over something, telling him how he’d made a difference to her and that things were getting better.

“Can I just--I wanna go to bed.  Forget any of this shit happened and continue on with my life.”

“No.  We’re going to fix this.  I’m done watching you beat yourself up over douchebags who don’t deserve it.”

“Look,” Richard knelt in front of Emily, “why don’t I see if Misha has a few minutes to talk with you when he gets in?”  If he could get her focused on something other than what had just taken place, maybe she’d start to feel better.  “I know he’d never do anything to purposefully cause anyone a moment of discomfort.  Let him know how he made you feel, give him a chance to understand where you’re coming from, I guarantee he’s going to want to know about it.  He’ll want the chance to apologize and make it right.”

“I--don’t know if I could face him.”

“OK, I’ll let you sleep on it.  You two can stay here tonight, if that would help.” He offered, unsure of what he could actually do to make the situation better.

“No.”  Emily responded instantly.  “I’ll be fine.  We’ll go back to our room.”  The idea of being vulnerable around any male at that moment made her skin crawl.

“Will you meet us for breakfast?”  Felicia asked, joining the group on the floor.  “Maybe around nine or so?  Just to give us some peace of mind that you’re OK.”  Emily looked to Jennifer who gave her a half smile before nodding.

*****End Thursday*****

“I don’t think I can do this.”  Emily shook her head.  Crying about it was one thing.  Actually confronting the man who’d made her cry the year before was something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, you don’t.”  Richard agreed with Jennifer.  “However, you made a valid point last night.  You weren’t going to let Ty stay there and hurt someone else.  I know Misha’s not Ty, but don’t you think he should know what happened?  If for no other reason, it will help him from accidentally causing someone else the same anguish it obviously caused you.”  That thought hadn’t crossed Emily’s mind.  But it definitely decided things for her, now that she was thinking about it.

“OK, let’s do this.”

“It’s weird.”  A small smile found its way to Emily’s face.

“What?”  Richard fought to hide his grin.

“I know I went in there with the idea that I wanted to save some other person from being triggered by what was meant to be a joke, but...shit, I feel better.”

“I figured you would.”  She shook her head at him, but kept her smile.

“I can’t believe my sister is still in there talking to him.  Quite frankly, I’m a little terrified.  They are too much alike.”

“That definitely can’t be a good thing, then.  They’re probably in there planning world domination or something.”  He nudged her shoulder with his and felt her stiffen.  “Can I ask you a question?”

“Technically, you just did.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”  He teased.  “Seriously, though.  Why me?”

“Why you, what?”

“Last year, you told me that I was the first man you’d hugged in years that didn’t cause you to have a panic attack.  Why me?”

“Oh, that.”  She looked down, trying to collect her thoughts.  “Your height probably had a lot to do with it--or rather, your lack of height compared to every other guy here.”  He rolled his eyes, causing her smile to widen as she met his gaze.  “And you put one arm around my shoulders.  You didn’t pull me in for a full embrace, you gave me this one armed hug that left me room to escape if I needed it.  The night before, right after karaoke, Matt had grabbed me and practically squeezed the life out of me.  I was a basket case before I even got out of the photo room.  But that next morning, you, in your hungover state, it was casual.  It was helpful.  I felt safe that if I needed to pull away, I could.  It was freeing.”

“Well.”  Richard looked surprised.  “I’m at a loss of how to respond to that.”

“Holy shit, Dick has no comeback.”  Emily tensed back up at the sound of a male voice entering the room.  Jared Padalecki or not, she was still uneasy.  “This must be a world--oh.  You ok?”

“I will be.”  Emily tried to blank her face, not wanting to advertise her discomfort.

“And you are...?”

“Getting out of your way.”  She forced herself to smile before heading for the door.

“Wait.” Richard’s voice paused her movement.  “Your sister will be back any minute, and Felicia is due here in a minute or two herself.  You want to stay?”

“Um, I don’t want to get in anyone’s way.”

“Oh, my god, you’re adorable.”  Jared stepped closer to her and she whimpered softly.

“Jared, think fast!”  A pillow from the room’s couch suddenly flew across the room and hit Jared square in the face.  In the next instant, Richard was at her side, standing with his body positioned slightly between Emily and Jared, the giant.  

“Do I want to know?”  Jensen Ackles asked, taking in the stunned look on Jared’s face as he entered the room.  “And who’s this pretty lady?”

“This is Emily.”  Richard introduced her.  From the corner of her eye, she saw him signal to Jensen that he not attempt to hug her.  Bless that man.

“Em?”  She turned around to see her sister, arm-in-arm with Misha Collins.  What the fuck was her life?  “We’ve come up with a plan.”

“Do I want to hear this?”

“You’re going to tell Ty that unless he cleans up his act, you’re going to go public with what happened.”  All of the color drained from Emily’s face.

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all.”  Misha joined in.  “You know how he made you feel.  This is not the first time his drinking has gotten out of control.  He’s got two daughters that need to be able to look at their father and see a man worth admiring.  The Ty you met last night is not what they need.”

“What did he do?”  Jensen’s tone was angry, and Emily felt herself cowering.  Where the hell was the confidence she’d had last night when she’d stood up to Ty?

“It’s not a big deal.”

“If he’d assaulted someone else, would it be a big deal?  If it had been me he’d assaulted?”  Jennifer tried not to snap, but she hated how her sister viewed herself.

“I’d have killed the fucker.” Or died trying.

“I know you would have.  But it was you, not me.  And I honestly hate to play this card because I want you to think of yourself as being worth something, but what’s to stop him from assaulting someone else?  You have the power to stop it.”

“I will kill him.”  Jared looked over at Jensen before turning back to Emily.  “What did he do to you?”  Slowly, she pushed up the elbow-length sleeve she was wearing to reveal a rather large black and blue mark in the shape of a hand on her forearm.  “Oh my god--.” He started in for a hug only to have Richard step completely between the two of them.  “I’m--fuck--I will fucking kill that s.o.b.”

“Emily, right?”  Jensen finally spoke again.  She nodded.  “I want you to know, there’s not a single one of us who would blame you if you pressed charges.  OK?  Against him, against Creation, against the hotel, whatever.”

“I--I just want this to go away.”  She looked up with tears in her eyes.

“Fuck, you have no idea how badly I want to hug you and make it all go away.”  Jared was fighting against his hug-it-out nature, she could tell, and it was almost enough to make her want to smile.

“Would it help if one of us went with you to talk to him?”  Misha asked.  Going with Misha to confront Ty?  The thought made her start hyperventilating.

“Em, he meant go with us.”  Jennifer detached herself from Misha and grabbed her sister’s hands.  “I’m going to be there the entire time, OK?”  Emily nodded and tried to reign her breathing in.  “But would you want one of them to go with us?  Moral support and all that.”  Emily shrugged.

“Well, unless you say no, I’m going.  He dragged me into his mess last year and this year, and I’m not going to put up with his shit anymore.”  Richard volunteered, glad to see appreciation reflected from Emily’s eyes.

“Same.  It was my idea, so unless you don’t want me there, I’m going.”  Misha chimed in.

“Whose idea?”  Jennifer raised an eyebrow.

“Would you settle for _our_ idea?”

“Whatever, dude.”  Jennifer turned back to her sister.  “See, Em, it’s all good.  J-one and -two have a panel in just a few minutes, so they’ll have to read about it in the paper.”  Jennifer shot a look at both men in question.  Emily knew that their panel wasn’t for at least another hour, but she was glad her sister was trying to keep them from overwhelming her.  The situation was already overwhelming as it was.

“Umm..” She could feel her bottom lip quivering, “o-okay, I guess.”

 

“What the fuck--is this an intervention?”  Ty bellowed, still nursing a hangover.

“Listen up, shit-head.  She’s got something you need to hear.”  Jennifer might be small--the smallest one in the room, in fact, but damn, she could be feisty.  

“You claimed you were roofied last year, and I gave you the benefit of the doubt because I know how it feels to have no one believe you.  And maybe--maybe I’m just a fan,”  Emily took a breath, trying to bolster her courage.  “But what happened last night was inexcusable.  Y-you bruised my arm and called me a cunt because I wouldn’t sleep with you.  I got zero-sleep last night because I keep thinking every noise I heard was you coming to my room to rape me.”  Another pause, another breath, another attempt at faux-courage.  “You freaking terrorized me, but what if Richard hadn’t been there to step in, or if I had been unable to scream?  You have two little girls who look up to you.  H-how would you feel if one of them came home and told you someone did to them what you did to me?”  Tears started spilling from her eyes and she felt her sister squeeze her hand.  “I’m not going to let you do to anyone else what you did to me.  So, you have two options.  Either get help--quit drinking, get counseling, all that--or, I will go public with what you did to me.  And you will have to live with the public shame of sexually assaulting me.”

“All I heard was blah-blah-blah, I’m a dirty whore.”  Finally, the anger that had deserted her so quickly last night came roaring back.  Jennifer held tight to her sister’s hand to keep her from lashing out at Ty.  “It’s your word against mine.”

“Look, fucker, I was there.  I saw what you did.  I will corroborate her story when she goes public.  Not to mention, security footage, the bartender, the bruise on her arm!”  Richard seemed to be just as angry as she was, and it warmed her heart.

Before anyone had a chance to speak, there was a loud banging on the door.  Being the closest, Misha opened the door and Richard turned himself just enough to be between Emily and whomever was coming in.

“Ty, I--who the fuck are you two?”  Shit.  It was just her sister and her against four men.  Not great odds in Emily’s book.  Still, she shifted on her feet so that she put herself in a position to let all of the men know she’d come between them and her sister.  

“This, Freddy, is Emily, the woman Ty assaulted last night, and her sister, Jennifer.”  Misha indicated each of them in turn.  “Ladies, Freddy Barnes.”

“What the fuck--you brought them here?  Are you--do you know--oh my god, we are so fucking screwed.”  He glared at the sisters.  “Are you wired?”

“Are you kidding me?  We came here to help.”  Emily was done.  She’d just bared her soul only to be called a whore, and now she was being accused of wearing a wire.  “If this is how I’m going to be treated when I try to get him to sober up, fuck this.  I should have just found a lawyer to begin with.”

“I think you need to chill the fuck out, Freddy.”

“OK, OK.  Everyone, just calm the fuck down.”  Since when was Jennifer a voice of reason?  “Freddy--let me fill you in.  Last night, Ty here assaulted my sister in a bar downstairs.  Richard stepped in and Ty was removed from said bar, but not before bruising up her arm.  This morning, Misha and I came up with the idea that Emily needed to face Ty, otherwise she’d spend the next nine years avoiding any sort of physical contact.  But not only that, she needed to tell him that he needs to clean up his act, or she’s going to file charges.  Not out of some money-hungry scheme, but because she doesn’t want another person to go through what she went through last night, and what she’s still going through right now.  If you’re here to try and bully her into letting this go, she and I will be out of here and on our way to a lawyer, with the video surveillance footage from the bar that shows in detail who it was and what he did.”  Emily turned to stare at her sister.  “That’s right.  Little sister still has some connections in Vegas.  Where do you think I disappeared to during breakfast?”  Jennifer smirked.

“Not to mention, Freddy, that there’s evidence of him being like this last year.  If it gets out that we knew about his behavior and we still let it continue unchecked, she could sue every last one of us.”

“There’s no way you could have known--.”  Emily didn’t like where Richard seemed to be headed.  It made her sound like she was only out for the money.

“Based on his behavior at last year’s con, we should have anticipated something like this.”  Misha added.  “All of this could have been avoided if we’d stepped in last year.  If we don’t step in now, and he actually does rape someone, then we are just as much to blame.”

“Alright.”  Freddy’s immediate rage faded and he turned his attention to Ty.  “Ty, I suggest you take this lady up on her offer.  Lord knows she is being more than generous.  So, you either sober up and get help, or I will see to it that this thing gets blown up.  And as far as I’m concerned, Creation can lend her a lawyer or six.”

“Look, Ty,” Emily began quietly, after several beats of silence.  “Don’t do it for me.  Don’t do it for anyone in this room.  It won’t last if that’s why you do it.”  His eyes studied her face and she forced herself not to look away.  “Do it for your girls.  Do it so that they have someone they can look up to instead of someone they trip over.  Do it so that you can look them in the eyes when you tell them that no one has the right to put their hands on them without their consent.  If you can’t sober up for yourself, do it for them.”

Moments of intense silence passed before he nodded.

 

“Why the hell did you pull me up on stage just to stand between me and everyone up there?”

“They would have hugged you.  We’re a very affectionate people.”  He grinned before gulping down his water.

“You could have left me in the crowd.  I would have been fine.” In the back, away from everyone else.  “And where did you say my sister was?”  She poked at her half-eaten burger with a french fry.

“She’s with Mark.”

“Sheppard?  Seriously?  What the fuck am I doing here, then?”  She was mostly teasing.

“You’d abandon me for a Brit?”  He held his hand to his forehead in mock-terror.

“No, just Mark Sheppard.”  She paused a beat.  “Or Paul McCartney.  Or Ringo Starr.  Or Prince Harry.  But that’s it.”

“This is the thanks I get for saving you from an overly affectionate moose.”  Because, once again, during karaoke, Jared had fallen into his ‘hugs can save the world’ mentality when he’d seen her.

“If you had left me in the crowd, the moose wouldn’t have spotted me.”  She grinned at the ridiculousness of their conversation.

“Not a chance you could hide with a smile like that.”  Blush rose to her cheeks just as their waiter approached the table.  

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Just the check.”  Richard replied.  Emily whipped out her credit card and handed it to the waiter before he could disappear to the back.  

“Under no circumstances are you to listen to anything he has to say about paying this bill.”  She instructed, narrowing her eyes as she tilted her head towards Richard.  The waiter grinned and nodded before scurrying off.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”  Richard stared at her.  “You know I just bill everything to Creation, right?  I don’t actually pay for anything during these cons.”

“Well, somebody does.  And chances are, Creation doesn’t tip, or doesn’t tip well, anyway.  And quite frankly, I think our waiter did an outstanding job, considering he seems to be the only one actually waiting tables right now.”

“Ma’am,”  Suddenly, the waiter was back at the table.  “We’ve been instructed not to charge you anything.”  He handed back her card.  “Everything’s been taken care of.”  And with that, he was gone.

“Wha--?”  Richard grinned at Emily’s blustering.  “What the hell have you done?”

“I merely suggested,” he began as he laid two twenties on the table, “and Creation agreed, that your entire con experience should be comped.  So, anything you do within the Rio is taken care of.”

“Is this some sort of hush money?”  Why couldn’t she just take a gift at face value?  She mentally kicked herself.  Did she really need to be so suspicious of everyone?

“Not at all.”  Richard explained patiently.  “What happened was inexcusable and you still have every right to press charges.  I, personally, think you are being entirely too lenient on Ty.”  He tapped her hand on the table and she flinched.  “And me.”

“What?”  She tamped down all of her uncomfortableness.

“You turned your back on me in the bar, which should have told me that, even after what you’d just been through with Ty, you felt safe enough to allow yourself to be vulnerable around me.  And I fucked that up by grabbing you the way I did.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “Even after I remembered what it was about you that stood out--that I’d been the first guy in years to hug you that hadn’t caused you a panic attack--and I still grabbed your arm.  I should never have laid a hand on you without permission.  I’m not sure anything can make up for the shitty experience you’ve had at this con.”

“You have been nothing but a gentleman since then.  And, as cheesy as it sounds, it was probably just the ‘heat of the moment’” she sang before she calmed down, “that caused you to grab my arm without thinking.”

“That was lame.”  He smiled.  “But incredibly accurate.”

“Last year, I went from one photo-op to the next freaking out because I’d find myself being touched when I didn’t want to be.  Hell, I doubt Misha remembers, but my sister stood between us in our photo, instead of him being in the middle.  I just--I don’t want to be mad at you.”  She smiled.  “So, I’m not going to be.”

“But you’re afraid of being touched again.”

“That’s not going to go away overnight.  And while, yeah, you grabbing me didn’t help my state of mind at the bar, I’d be feeling this way even if you hadn’t.”

“So, it’s Ty.”

“Yeah.  It’s because of what he did that has me this way.  Not you.”  He sighed, obviously still frustrated.  “If it was you, there’s no way in hell I’d be anywhere near you with no one else around.”

“We’re not exactly in the backseat of my car.”

“No shit, Sherlock.  Doesn’t matter.  We’re alone at this table.  We were alone backstage.  If I felt like it was you, I’d still be glued to my sister’s side.”

“So the touching thing--.”

“Not your fault.  I just--I can’t handle it right now.”

“OK.”

 

“I fucking love you!”  Emily squealed as she grabbed the photo from her sister’s hand.  “I can’t believe you got him to do this!”  The photo in question was of Mark Sheppard, wearing the TARDIS hat that he’d sworn he’d never wear just a year prior.  

“You’re going to bend it, moron.”  Jennifer just smiled.

“This is going up on my wall.  I’m going to have it blown up to poster size and just stare at it for hours on end.”

“I think I’m jealous.”  Jared shook his head at her enthusiasm.  “You’re not supposed to like the demon more than the good guys.”

“But it’s Mark-fucking-Sheppard wearing a hat I MADE.  It’s going up next to the one of Mark Pellegrino wearing the hat last year.”

“I sincerely hope you washed that bloody thing before you had me put it on.”  Mark Sheppard groused, much to the amusement of everyone in the room.

“Absolutely not!  That would take away all the magic.”

“Ignore her.  It was washed.  Multiple times.”  Emily sighed as her sister outed her.

“What if I wore it?  Would that increase the magic?”  Jensen snatched up the hat in question and plopped it on his head.

“But-but, you’re not Mark-fucking-Sheppard.”  Emily finished weakly, causing everyone in the small room to chuckle.

“Sorry, mate.  Looks like old Crowley wins this round.”  Mark smirked.

“What if we each take turns wearing the hat and take a photo with its creator?”  Jared suggested, indicating all of the cast members around him.

“You’re not going to hug me, are you?”  Emily eyed him cautiously, coming down from her excitement.

“Nah.”  He shrugged good-naturedly.

“As kind as that is, I think I’d rather not.”  Their brief conversation had made her realize something--she and her sister were the only non-cast members in the room.  Even the security had stepped out.  And she knew the only reason they’d been allowed to be here was because of what had transpired.  She didn’t want special treatment because of something that hadn’t allowed her more than five minutes of sleep at a time.  She didn’t want the reminder--she just wanted to go on as normal.  And this was about as far from normal as she could get.  “Actually, I think I need some air.”  Away from the pity in their eyes, away from the knowledge that her weakness was letting her sister down, just--away.

“Em.” Jennifer followed her sister out of the room.

*****End Friday*****

“I need your help.”  A few hours later, Richard found himself being approached by Jennifer and one of the con-volunteers.

“Mr. Speight, if you need me to call security--.” The volunteer began.

“It’s fine.  I know her.”  The girl nodded and headed back towards the con.  “What’s up?”

“She won’t come out of the bathroom.”  That would explain the bags under Jennifer’s eyes.  She probably hadn’t gotten any sleep if Emily had locked herself in the bathroom all night.

“I take it you’re not worried about regularity.”

“She says she feels like she’s being treated like a freak show.  That you’re all doing this out of pity.  Or, in your case, some twisted sense of guilt.”

“That’s not true!” He protested.

“Can you come talk to her?”

“I have to be on in thirty minutes.”  He looked at his watch.  “Fuck it, let’s go.”  He motioned with his head for her to lead the way.

“Why _are_ you doing all this?”  Jennifer asked as they stepped on to the elevator.  “Because she doesn’t want your pity or your guilt.”

“Last year she hugged me and she didn’t freak out.”  Jennifer nodded, eyeing him speculatively.  “She flinches if I even bump her.  No one deserves to feel that way.  If giving up a little of my free time here helps to put a smile back on her face, I’m happy to do it.”

“OK.”

“Emily?”

“What the fuck, Jen?  You said you were getting food.” Emily cursed when she heard Richard’s voice, though she didn’t open the bathroom door.

“We missed you during DJ’s panel.”  Richard plopped down in front of the door, leaning against the frame.  “Thought you might like to know he’s bummed he didn’t get a chance to meet you.”

“I don’t want to meet anyone else, thanks.  I’m sick and tired of everyone feeling sorry for me.”

“No one--”

“Don’t you fucking sit there and tell me no one feels sorry for me.”  He could hear her pacing the small room.  “I feel their pity.  It’s fucking tangible.  Oh, poor little girl can’t protect herself.  She can’t keep her emotions in check because she’s just so god-damned damaged.  I don’t want it.  I just want to go home and forget this weekend ever happened.”

“There is one part I’m very glad about.”  She didn’t interject.  “I got to meet you.  Yeah, I wish we could have met differently, but I’m glad I got to hang out with you.  The fact that, after everything you’ve been through, you still find it in your heart to trust me enough to be in the same room with me, it’s amazing.  You make me feel like all of this is worth it.  That I’m worth it to someone for them to overcome their completely justified fears to have dinner with me.  That someone as incredible as you could find someone like me worth it, well, I have to tell you, it’s one of the most fantastic things to ever happen to me.”

“Don’t.”  He felt her collapse against the wall next to the door of the bathroom and slide down to sit on the floor.  “Please don’t.”  She choked out.

“Don’t what, sweetheart?  Don’t tell you you’re amazing?  It would be a lie if I said otherwise.”

“But I’m not.”  She was just shy of full-blown sobs.  “If I was so--damned--amazing, it wouldn’t--have happened once, let alone--almost twice.”

“Shit, Emily.  That had nothing to do with you.  Everything that’s happened is on them.  Not you.”  How could he get her to see that?

“But I was there!  If I hadn’t been, maybe they wouldn’t have done it.  Maybe I’m the one that brought it out in them.  I’m the reason they--they--” He couldn’t understand what she was saying anymore, just the sound of anguish that spilled out of her.

“Open the door.” He tried, once she’d stopped trying to speak and let her sobbing take over.  “Emily?” He tried again after a few minutes of her crying.

“I’ve got the key.”  He’d been so focused on Emily that he’d forgotten Jennifer was even in the room.

“Hey, Emily?  If you’re ok with it, I’d like to come in.  Jennifer’s got a key, but I’m not coming in if you don’t want me to.”  He heard her try to control her sobs after another minute. Then, very quietly, he heard the lock to the bathroom being undone.  “You sure you’re ok with me opening this door?”  He got no response. “How about, if you don’t want me to open the door, knock once.  If you’re ok with it, knock twice.  Just--knock--let me know you’re OK in there.”

One minute passed.  Then another.  Five minutes had ticked by.  Finally, he heard two soft knocks against the door.

“I’m opening the door, sweetheart.”  He reached up and twisted the knob before pushing gently against the door.  “Hey, beautiful.”  She had her knees pulled to her chest, her arms folded at the top and her face buried against her arms.  She looked up and he saw streaks of black down her cheeks, her eyes looking more raccoon than human thanks to the smudged mascara.  “Nice to see you.”

“I’m sorry.”  She whispered, her eyes spilling over again.

“For what?”  He smiled gently.

“Being such a drama queen.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for.  Not for what happened, not for being uncomfortable, not for panicking, not for anything.”  God, it took everything in him not to reach out to offer a comforting touch.  “I’m sorry you have to go through all this.”  If he had just gotten to the bar ten minutes earlier...

He looked so dejected, so unsure.  It was different than the cool, calm, collected demeanor that he had when he graced the stage.  It was off--wrong.  Despite the chaos that she was feeling, she felt the need to fix it.

Slowly, while turning to look at the bathtub, she set her hand down between them, hoping that her invitation was clear.

He looked down at her hand and then back up at her face, startled.  Did he leave her hand alone and risk her feeling rejected?  Did he put his hand on hers and risk scaring her again?  Was this her asking for something or just a non-meaningful hand placement?  What the fuck was he-- she answered his questions when she slid her hand closer to him.  She still wasn’t looking at him, but he decided to risk it.  Tentatively, ready to yank his hand back if she so much as twitched, he set his hand next to hers.  Then he slid his fingers until they brushed up against hers.

“Hey.”  She turned her head to look at him.  Instead of saying anything more, he just smiled.

 

“Where were you, dude?”  Rob questioned as soon as Richard returned to the room that had been set up for them all back stage.  “We called you like 50 times.  Is everything OK?”

“It was more like five times, and yes, everything is--well, not OK, but better.”

“This about that girl that Ty assaulted?”

“Yeah.  She needed some reassurance.”

“From what Kim was telling me, she’s kinda relapsing?”

“Yeah.  She hit a snag earlier, but she let me touch her hand, so I’d call it a win.”

“Let you--wait--why are you trying so hard with her?  She’s not your responsibility.  Surely there are counselors and therapists better equipped--.”

“Turns out she’s the girl I was telling you about last year--the one who was OK with me hugging her.  Do you remember that?”

“No shit?”  Richard nodded.  “Seriously, out of every girl Ty could have hit on, it had to be her?  Because she hasn’t been through enough already?”

“No kidding.”  Richard began to peruse the snack tables.  Rob sighed.  Trying to get Richard off his white horse would obviously be an exercise in futility.  

“Felicia told me she’s not pressing charges?”

“She told Ty she would if he didn’t get sober.  Said she didn’t want him doing to anyone else what he did to her, or worse.”

“Seriously, that is one tough lady.”  Rob paused.  “Christ, can you imagine if that had happened to one of our kids?”

“It happened to somebody’s kid.”  Richard knew Rob hadn’t meant it the way he’d taken it, but still... “Sorry, I’m just--I don’t really know how to help her.  She doesn’t want to be in the crowd because she’s terrified anytime someone even brushes up against her.  And she doesn’t want to be back here because she’s afraid everyone is going to feel sorry for her.  I tried pulling her up on stage during karaoke, but then had to protect her from Jared and his huggy-bear routine.”

“Matt told me about that.  God, that kid and his hugs.”  Rob shook his head.  “Hey, how about we put her back with the band?  She can chill to the side of the stage--away from everyone, and we can kind of act as a shield for her.”  If his friend wanted to play the hero, who was he to derail him?  He never could play the heavy.

“Might work.  Let me--oh, for fucks sake, I was just there and I don’t even know her damned room number to call.”  Richard threw his hands up in disgust at his own lack of foresight.  “Freddy!”

“You bellowed, mon capitan?”  The taller man seemed to appear out of nowhere.

“You know Emily’s room number?  I need to make a call.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Because I want it.”

“Look man, none of us like what happened to her, but don’t you think you’re taking things a bit far?”

“A bit--are you fucking with me right now?”  Richard glared at him.  “Are you saying we should just pretend like what she went through didn’t happen?”

“No--it’s just--Creation is worried that if we do all of this stuff for her, it’s like an admission of guilt.”  Times like these, he really hated being the go-between.  “And with you constantly around her, it’s gonna look like you were put in charge of paying her off to keep quiet.”

“Fucking fuck!”  Richard slammed his hand down on the table.  “Let me make one thing clear to you, Freddy, you can tell Creation that they can go fuck themselves.  That girl came all this way to see a bunch of idiots who, for whatever reason, she likes.  And right now, she’s too fucking terrified to even leave her goddamned hotel room.”  He took a moment to corral his anger.  “I don’t care how it looks for Creation.  I just want her to feel comfortable here.  Not because I want to pay her off but because no one fucking deserves to feel as isolated as she does right now.”  It had damn near broken his heart seeing just how frightened she was.  “Just give me her fucking room number.  I wanna see if she wants to sit near the stage, with the band.  She’ll still get to see the rest of the con, but away from everyone else.”

“OK.”  Freddy agreed.  “I believe it’s 3317.”

“Thanks.”

 

“Relax, Em.”  Jennifer squeezed her hand.

“I know, I just...you’re sure everyone’s OK with this?” Emily turned to Richard.

“Everyone is fine with it.  Rob’s the one who suggested it.”  Richard didn’t try to brush his arm against hers, but when it happened, he was pleased that she didn’t flinch.  No, she didn’t keep up the contact, but she let it end naturally, instead of jerking away like she had before.  Progress.

Finally, they made it to the backstage area.

“Hey, Rob!”  The man in the blue polyester tux jacket and jeans turned to look at the three of them.  He walked over to the trio. “Rob, I’d like you to meet two fantastic women, Emily, and Jennifer.  Ladies, my best friend, Rob Benedict.”

“You do realize when you say his full name, knowing that since we’re here, we already know it, it sounds like you’re name-dropping.”  Jennifer pointed out.

“Hey, I’d name drop if I knew God.” Emily shrugged.  Rob laughed as he held out his hand to Jennifer, who shook it.  “You know, she’s fine with hugs, it’s just me who’s the socially awkward butterfly right now.” Jennifer sighed and rolled her eyes at her sister.  “Don’t roll your eyes at me.  You’re the one who was telling me that you were fine with me getting freaked out at hugs because it just meant more for you.”

“Well,” before she could finish her statement, Jennifer was pulled in for a hug by Rob.  “OK, God, kinda need to breathe.”  Rob blushed as he let her go.

“He does know CPR if you pass out.”  Richard added, laughing when he saw the grossed-out look on Emily’s face.

“Not the image I needed, thanks.”  She mock-glared at him.  She looked over at Rob who had tentatively stuck his fist towards her.  She cocked an eyebrow in question.

“You know, I figured it was less intrusive than a handshake.”  Her eyes started to tear as she bumped his fist with her own.  Those tears turned to laughter when he continued the movement like his hand had become a rocket--sound effects and all.  In turn, she flexed her fingers multiple times, moving her hand slowly back to her side.

“Awkward jelly-fish.”  She clarified when she saw his questioning look.  He nodded.

“And now that you’ve been touched by the hand of God, I think it’s time to introduce you to the other guys in the band.  Where are they?”  Richard asked.

“Probably doing something productive.”  Rob answered.  “Let me just--.”  He moved to get his cell phone just as three other men walked into the room, each of them in a polyester get-up.

“These the girls?”  The one in beige asked before anyone else could say something.

“Yeah, Billy.  Emily and Jennifer--Billy Moran, Stephen Norton, and Mike Borja.” Emily shifted slightly to put herself just to the front of her sister.  No one but Jennifer and Richard noticed.  Jennifer squeezed her hand and Richard moved to where he was just to the front of Emily.  

“Hi, ladies.”  Having been warned that hugs were a no-go, the three men stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

“She’s the hugger.”  Emily inclined her head towards Jennifer.  “I’m the fist-bumper.”  She smiled at Rob, who grinned.

“She makes a mean jelly-fish.”  He concluded.  After each of the men hugged Jennifer, they offered Emily a fist and she proceeded to demonstrate her jelly-fish.

“I like it.  May have to steal it.”  Mike said, once all hugs and fist-bumps had concluded.

“I stole it from one of my students a few years ago.  No idea where he got it from.”

“So, you’re a teacher?”  Stephen asked.  “What grade?”

“Sixth.”

“11 and 12 year-olds?”

“Yup.”  Steven shuddered.  

“It’s like you live Supernatural--dealing with all those hell-spawn.”  She laughed.

“Something like that.  I’d certainly like to exorcise a few of them from my classroom.”

“Are you a teacher too?”  Billy asked Jennifer.

“Hell no!  I train dogs, not children.  Dogs are easier to control.  And they’re a hell of a lot cuter.”

“Although I have used some of her methods with my students.  Not really surprising to find that they work.”  Everyone chuckled.

“You girls ready to head to your seats?” Mike asked, glancing at the clock.  “We’re on again in ten.”

“Um, OK.”  As confident as she’d been just a few seconds earlier, it was hard watching Emily deflate back to her insecure version as soon as she realized she had to go.

“Hey, guys, can you give us a minute?”  Jennifer asked.

“Sure.”  Richard herded the men off towards the exit, but stood close enough to hear.

“You can do this.”

“I just--I fucking hate how helpless I feel.  I can’t turn it off.  I can’t make it go away.  All these people are making accommodations for me because I can’t fucking do anything.”

“No, they’re doing this because they see just how wonderful you are.  How amazing you are to have gone through what you have and to still be standing.  How you’ve survived everything you have and still have it in you to protect me.”  Emily blushed.  “Yeah, I caught that little shift you pulled.  Richard did too.  Did you notice how he moved and stood to protect you?”  Emily shook her head.  “Too busy trying to protect me to notice someone trying to protect you.  Did you move because you felt sorry for me?”

“No!  I just--if anything--I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“That’s right.  I know you won’t.  And you do it because you care.  I could be wrong, but I think that’s why he does it, too.”  Emily looked down at her shoes.  Jennifer sighed.  “Do you want to go?  We can go back to the room or we can go find a sushi restaurant or we can just go drive around.”

“You wanna stay.”

“Not if it’s going to hang you up like this.  We made this trip to do some sister bonding.  If I’m the only one who’s having any fun, it’s not really bonding, is it?”

“I wanna stay.”

“Really?  Because it looks like you are ready to bolt the first chance you get.  You can’t even look me in the eyes right now.  You were OK two minutes ago.”  Jennifer growled in frustration.  “I can’t make it right if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m OK.”  Emily took a deep breath to bolster her courage and looked up at her sister.  “I can do this.”

“But do you want to?”

“It’s like last year--I don’t want to look back, three weeks from now, kicking myself that I didn’t.”

“You sure?”  Yes, this was the same speech from last year.  And last year, Emily had spent a chunk of time having one panic attack after another.

“Just, don’t leave me, OK?”

“Not even for Mark Sheppard.”  Emily smiled knowingly.  “Before, that was all Richard.  I blame him for whisking you away from me.”

“Really?”

“OK, not totally.  But we can pretend, right?”

“OK.”

“My question is for Richard.”

“What?!?!”  Matt Cohen threw up his hands in mock annoyance.  Emily grinned.  This was all part of their shtick.  “Not cool!”

“Oh, I love you, Matt, I’m just curious about something.”

“Yes, I really am that good.”  Richard cheesed and the audience laughed.

“Seriously though,” the girl began again once the laughter had subsided.  “My friends and I have seen you around the last few days and we’re wondering, we know you’re single since last October, but who’s the girl you’ve been going everywhere with?  My friend swears she’s seen you with two girls at once, but I’ve only seen you with the one.  Is she your girlfriend?”

Emily finally understood why the event coordinators had stressed the ‘no personal questions’ rule.  Maybe the celebrities on stage were OK with it, but for the others involved with the personal questions--it was damned unnerving.

“It’s OK, Em.”

“No, they can probably see us.”

“We’re hidden by shrubbery and a band stand.  No one can see us unless they were looking for us.  And even if they were, we’d look like stagehands.”  Jennifer tugged on her copy of the ‘Volunteer’ shirt Emily was wearing, thankful that Richard had taken the precaution.

“But they’ve seen us.”

“It’s a free country, Em.  And we haven’t exactly been trying to be covert.”  Jennifer squeezed her hand, but she could still feel how tense her sister was.

“The two ladies in question happen to be friends of mine.  One of them hit a rough patch and I invited them to spend some time with me.  You know?  I want to cheer her up because I care about her.”  The crowd ‘awed’ in response.  Emily felt her panic start to recede.  “If you see them around, I have to tell you, the taller of the two, she totally rocks the ‘awkward jellyfish’ fist-bump.”

“So, she’s _not_ your girlfriend?”

“No.  Next question.”  Emily frowned at the curtness in his voice.  Why did this girl have to push the issue when he so clearly wrapped it up already?

“I heard she’s the reason Ty bailed this year.”  The comment came from the other side of the room.  Seriously?  More of this?

“Ty isn’t here because of some events that have occurred.  He’s made some alternate arrangements, and everyone here is in complete support of what he’s doing.”  Emily had been happy to learn that just an hour after she’d last talked to him, Ty had quietly checked himself into rehab.  At least something good had come out of her baring her soul.

“You OK?”  Stephen turned around at his drum set.

“When are they going to stop asking about me?”

“Richard will take care of it.”  He smiled.

“Now that that’s settled,”  Richard began, only to have feedback from Billy’s guitar drown him out.  “Did you have something to add, Johnny High-Pockets?”

“Just wanted to let you know Misha is wondering when you boys are going to be done.”  He held his finger to his ear, as if he was receiving a message through a headset or something.  “Apparently, West is antsy to come on and see his adoring public.”

“Good god.”

“Yes?”  Rob responded cheekily to Matt’s outburst.  

“He doesn’t even go here!”  Richard whined, successfully causing an uproar with the audience.

“Told you.”  Stephen turned around once again and winked at Emily.

 

“Thank you.”

“Thank Rich, it was his idea.”  Misha smiled, adjusting his hold so he could brush the hair back from a sleeping West’s face.  Apparently, meeting his adoring public wiped the little one out.  “But first, I’d like you to meet Vicki.  Honey, this is Emily and her sister, Jennifer.  They’re the ones I was telling you about.”

“And the ones he hasn’t stopped talking about.  Not that he ever really stops talking.”  Vicki grinned.  “How are you doing?”

“I’m--better.”  She certainly wasn’t OK, but at least better was the truth.

“Good.”  Vicki’s smile was warming.  “I’ve heard you’re a teacher.  And that you’re a dog trainer?”  Both sisters nodded.  “I actually have a question or two for you, if you don’t mind?”  She looked at Jennifer who appeared startled.  

“Um...OK?”

“Oh my god, is that what I look like when I get uncomfortable?  I’m surprised you all haven’t been laughing your asses off at me.”  Jennifer scowled at Emily, even while she was secretly pleased to hear her sister make a joke about what had been going on.  That had to mean she was healing.

“It’s nothing bad.”  Vicki laughed.  “We’re just looking to get a dog for the kids and I was wondering what you would suggest.”

“Hey, Emily, you got a minute?”  Emily looked to Jennifer who smiled and nodded towards Matt.

“Um, OK.”  Emily surveyed the room, noting the exits and all the inhabitants before walking over to Matt.  “Yes?”

“Dick is off doing a photo-op but he wants me to make sure you hang around until he’s done.”

“Oh.  OK.”  Why?

“I think he just likes spending time with you.”  Matt answered her unasked question.  “You’re a pretty rad person.”

“You know you’re a child of the 80s when you describe things as ‘rad.’”  She pursed her lips to keep from chuckling.

“Oh, he definitely found a keeper.”  Matt shook his head.

“Keeper?”

“That did not come out the way I meant it.”  Matt backtracked.  “I’ll just stick to saying you’re rad.”

“Sure.”

“I just meant, he’s found a good friend that he should keep.  You’re a good person.  I’m just...sorry that the only way we could find that out was...you know.”  He rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, showing his discomfort.

“I’m better.  Seriously.  After listening to those girls pester him with questions about me, saying I’m rad is a lot easier to take.”

“Probably should have warned you that might happen.”  His tone was apologetic.  “You live and learn, right?”

“And then get Luvs.”

“Oh my god.  See, I’m not the only one who does that!”  He shouted to no one in particular.  “Man, I wish my wife was here.  She says I’m the only idiot who does that.”  He blanched.  “Not that you’re an idiot, errr...shit.  I’m just going to stop talking now.”

“It’s fine.  I’ve been called worse.”  She shrugged and then fought to keep herself from yawning.

“Hey now, none of that.  You’ll have all of us yawning before long.”  Kim chastised gently as she joined the two.

“Sorry.  Didn’t get any sleep last night.”  Emily admitted.  “Kept Jennifer up, too.  Surprised she’s still standing after having to hold me together for all this time.”

“You wanna go take a nap?  They’ve graciously given all of us one of the conference rooms to be our own little dressing room.”  Kim smiled.  “You and Jennifer can go crash in mine for a bit.”

“We couldn’t possibly--”

“Yes, you could.  I’m offering.  I wouldn’t offer if you couldn’t.”

“Our room---”

“Is on the other side of the casino.  You’ll crash before you can even get there.  Seriously.  Besides, my panel is in just a few hours.  If you go all the way to your room, you might miss it.”  For the first time in years, Emily wanted to reach out and hug someone who she wasn’t related to.  It felt so foreign to her.

“Thank you.”  She said instead.  As if reaching towards a frightened animal, Kim hesitantly offered her hand to the younger woman.  Emily bit her lip before slowly sliding her hand forward.  Kim smiled and held it loosely between the two of them, making sure not to entwine their fingers so Emily could pull away easily if she needed to.

“Let’s go get your sister.”

“Seriously?”

“Saw it with my own eyes, Dick.  No joke.  She was like a lost little kid who’d found her mom.”  Matt regaled the earlier happenings once his friend had finished his photos and came looking for Emily.

“Good.  She deserves it.”

“You know, I feel so damned guilty about all this.  If we’d just paid attention to the signs with Ty last year instead of making it a big joke, all of it could have been avoided.”

“Don’t tell her, OK?  I feel plenty guilty about it myself, but she freaked about that before.”  Richard sighed.  “God, I keep thinking, if I had just shown up ten minutes earlier, I could have gotten him out of there before...”

“Any one of us could have stepped in long before.  This isn’t all on your shoulders.”  Rob added.  “Just be thankful that you were there when you were instead of ten minutes later.”

“Fuck.”  

That thought hadn’t crossed his mind.  But what if he _had_ been ten minutes later in walking by that bar?  Would he have seen enough to go in and intervene?  Or would Ty have already dragged her out of the bar?  Would casino security have stepped in?  Or would the situation been even more devastating to Emily than it already was?

“Man, why did you have to say it like that?”

“Because it very well could have been that way.  You were supposed to have stayed after that night to go to dinner with me.  What if I hadn’t canceled to call home?  What if we’d been at dinner in the same casino, just a few feet away, but not there to stop what he was doing to her?”  Rob continued.  “You fucking saved her.  If that doesn’t ease your guilt, I’m not sure what will.”

“But I--I touched her.”

“What?” Matt asked, unsure of where Richard was going.

“After Joe came and got Ty out, I grabbed her arm.  I saw him assault her and what was my go-to move?  I fucking grabbed her.”

“Shit.”

“The fact that, after what I did, she’s even willing to be in the same room with me, let alone talk to me, fucking astounds me.  I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You don’t fuck it up, that’s what you do.”  Kim, who’d been listening to their conversation, chimed in. “I just spent the last twenty minutes watching her jerk out of sleep in a panic with every sound in that room.  Before that, it took almost a half an hour to calm her down enough to actually fall asleep.  It’s just so fucking heartbreaking to watch her check to make sure her sister is OK before she tries to go back to sleep.”

“Maybe they should just go home.”  Richard conceded.  “If being here is doing this to her...”

“I don’t know if it would be any better.  I’m sure she’ll go through the same thing once she’s back home.  At least here, if she can start to work through it, she won’t wake up thinking she was followed home.”  Kim sighed.  “But just an FYI--with God and God as my witness,” she gestured to Rob, “if you fuck with that girl’s emotions, I will fuck you up.  Got it?”

“Got it.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I just won the fucking lottery.”  Emily grumbled, wiping the sleep from her eyes.  She’d given up trying to wear makeup.  There was no point if it was just going to end up all over her face whenever her emotions decided it was time for her to cry.  “You’d think I’d be used to how this not-sleeping thing works.  It happened before, and yet, here I am, surprised when all I do is wake up every five minutes in fight-or-flight mode.”

“I--I don’t really know what to say to that.”  Richard admitted as they headed back to the backstage.  Jennifer was still half asleep and not really adding anything to their conversation, much to his chagrin.  He felt like he was drowning.

“That was actually probably the best thing you could say.  At least you’re not apologizing like it’s something you can fix.”  Emily informed him with a sigh.  “Just give me a few minutes to wake up, and I’ll stop being grumpy and instead I’ll be back to my paranoid self.”

“I don’t mind grumpy.  You’re actually pretty adorable when you’re grumpy.”

“I’m not adorable.  I’m irritable.  You’re not supposed to find this cute.  You’re supposed to cower in fear.”  Emily glared at him which, to further her irritation, only caused him to laugh.

“You woke me for this?  Yes, Em, we’re all quaking in our boots.  Now, either shut the fuck up or let me go back to sleep.”

“You’ll want to be awake for this.  Kim wanted to make sure you were here for her panel.”  Richard told them.

“Is she baking us cookies?”  Jennifer tried to glare at him but only succeeded in closing one eye.  “Fuck, I’m sleepy.”

“So go back to sleep.  No one is saying you have to be awake.  You’re better company when you’re asleep anyway.”

“I bet this is what my sisters and I sound like.”  Richard shook his head.  “No wonder my parents stopped after me.”  He ushered them to their spot next to the stage.  “Alright, ladies.  I need to go MC for a minute.”

“I love you, you know?”  For a split second, Richard thought Emily had said that to him.  He spun around, startled, only to see Emily lean her head on her sister’s shoulder.

“I know, you giant pain in the ass.”  Jennifer responded and leaned her head against Emily’s.  “Sometimes, I love you back.”

“Ass.”

“Before I go, I’d like to take a second to talk to everyone in the audience about something that is very important to me.  It was important before, but I’ve only just realized how important it is that everyone be aware of it.”  Kim glanced back to see that the sisters were at full attention.  They’d been sleepy looking before, but now, she had peaked their curiosity.  “It’s called ‘bodily autonomy.’” She continued, looking back at the audience.  “Sometimes, people take for granted that everyone is in charge of their own body.  And to any fellas in the audience, I hate to say it, but, it’s usually men who seem to think they are in charge of other people’s bodies.  And that is why bodily autonomy is so damned important.  We need to realize that no one is allowed to put their hands on us without our consent.  Just as we also need to realize that we are not allowed to put our hands on anyone else without their consent.  That goes for everybody.  From the men who think it’s OK to grab a woman in a bar to the girls who think it’s OK to touch Misha Collins's butt during a photo-op.  I’m here to tell you, it’s NOT OK.  You think that just because a woman has a drink or two that she’s asking for it?  Hell no.  You think that just because he’s a celebrity, he can’t feel violated?  Again, I say, hell no.”

“Before you ask,” Jennifer began quietly, “That whole Misha’s butt thing--she asked about your con experience last year, and I showed her some of the things you posted.  This whole thing is about you, Em.  You’re being heard, even if it’s not your voice.”  Emily felt her bottom lip begin to quiver as tears started spilling from her eyes.

“I wish I could spread this message world-wide.  I’m counting on someone in the audience to record all of this and post it to youtube or something.  I’ve been on tumblr.  I’ve seen how well the Supernatural fandom can take over.  So I need you all to spread the word.  Bodily autonomy should be--no, not should be--IS a right that is granted to everyone, regardless of gender, sexual orientation, anything.  Thank you.”  The audience, although smaller than it had been in other panels, erupted in cheers as Kim left the stage.

“Was that OK?”  Kim asked as soon as she was backstage and saw that Emily and Jennifer had beat her there.

“I--I don’t--you--”  Emily felt her lip quivering again.  She gestured to her sister in hopes that Jennifer could explain what she couldn’t find the words to say.

“I think what my sister is trying to say is that, if you’re OK with it, she’d really like a hug now?”  Emily nodded.

“Oh, honey,” Kim opened her arms and Emily practically fell into her embrace, clinging to her as if her life depended on it.  “I love you, sweetheart.”  Kim kissed the top of her head and just let her cry.

“So, she hugs now?”  Jensen asked.  While they’d been pulled away to continue filming, both he and Jared were curious about the woman Richard was so protective over.

“I’ve only seen the one with Kim.  Well, and her sister.  I think she’s still leery of anyone else.”  Richard sighed.

“Well, at least she’s further than she was.”

“You’re jealous.”  Jared was met with silence.  He glanced at Jensen before turning back to the phone that was currently on speaker.  “You feel something for her, don’t you?”

“I feel like I owe her for not being there to prevent her from being assaulted.  I feel like it’s my job to make sure she’s OK.  I feel--fuck.  I don’t really know what I feel right now.”

“You know, it’s OK to feel something for her.  I just don’t think acting on anything right now is a good idea.”

“Gee, thanks, Mom.”  Richard responded sarcastically.  “I certainly couldn’t tell by the fact that the closest thing we’ve had to a hug is her letting me touch her hand.”

“Last I checked, that was a big accomplishment, considering she wouldn’t even shake my hand when I offered.”  Jensen retorted.  He’d been a little insulted when she shied away from his outstretched hand, only to feel like a complete ass after he and Jared had been informed of what had taken place.

“Oh, she’s fist-bumping like crazy.”

“Are you seriously going to sit there and get your panties in a twist because she’s found a way to cope?”  Richard sighed again.  Seems like that was the only thing he was capable of anymore.

“No, I--fuck.  I’m pretty sure I’m screwed.”  He ran a tired hand down his face.  

“Keep your shit in check, dude.  She doesn’t need it.”  Was that Felicia’s voice?  

“Oh, by the way, Felicia just came in.”  

“Thanks for clearing that up, Jared.”  Richard groaned.  Just what he needed, another person to tell him how fucked up he was.

“And from what I’m hearing, you’ve got a thing for Emily?”

“I--I don’t know if I have a thing for her.”

“Then here is what you do.  Ride out this con just the way you have been--as a friend who is concerned about her well being.”  That shouldn’t be hard, considering that’s what he was.  “If you see her at next year’s con, you can see where the two of you stand, then.”

“A year?”  

“Dude, she told me it took her year _s_ \--as in plural--to realize she needed to deal with the first time around.  She’s going to need time to get her head on straight.  And you’re going to need time to make sure this isn’t just some knight in shining armor complex you’ve got going.”  He _had_ been wondering if that’s all this was.  Someone who made him feel special when he hadn’t had anyone by his side in months.

“And what if she doesn’t show up next year?  What then?”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t blame her if she bailed.  The first time happened in Vegas, too.  And now this.  That town has some pretty shitty memories for her.”  Now that was something he hadn’t been aware of.

“So, what do I do?”

“You know, there’s this really nifty new invention called text-messaging.  It’s amazing.  You can keep in contact with people instantly.  You should look into it.”

“You’re fucking hilarious.”

“I know, it’s a curse.”

“Seriously, man, she needs time.”  That was Jensen again.  “And if you can’t give it to her, then I think you should just forget about it.  Now.”

“But if you do keep in contact with her, you know you’re going to have to keep us posted on how she’s doing.”  Christ, Jared could be nosey as fuck.  “She’s like our own little surrogate now.”

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know that.”

“You know what I mean, asshat.”

“Yeah.”

*****End Saturday*****

“What the everloving fuck are you wearing?”  He’d only ever seen her in jeans and a t-shirt.  This definitely wasn’t that.

“I know the costume contest was on Friday, but that wasn’t really on my mind.”  Emily blushed under Richard’s gaze.  “Jennifer had multiple costumes planned, and she was bound and determined to wear at least one of them.”

“So, you’re me, I take it?”

“No, I’m Gabriel.”  She tugged on the burgundy vest out of nervousness, glad that it was early enough that only a few fans had ventured back towards the con area.  “You, sir, are of a completely different caliber.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing.”

“I think it depends.”  He could see her smile under the fake mustache.  “You should see Jen.  She’s Chuck.”

“Where is she?”

“Buying some stuff for signing.  We realized, this morning, that we have no one’s autograph.”

“You really need autographs to remember this con?”  He could tell as soon as the words were out of his mouth, that she hadn’t taken it in the light-hearted way he’d meant it.

“No.” She began softly, “I suppose I’ll have my nightmares to remember it by.”  God, he wanted to slap himself--it would hurt a lot less than the tone of her voice.

“Fuck, that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.”  But the damage was done.  She hung her head.  “I’m sorry.  I’m going to try really hard not to be a total downer today.  Just--give me a second.”  She darted away from him towards the bathrooms.

“FUCK!”

“Where’s Em?”  Jennifer approached him with a bag of merchandise.  He almost didn’t recognize her in the bathrobe and boxers get up, painted on stubble and all.

“In the bathroom crying because I don’t know when to keep my goddamned mouth shut.”

“What the fuck did you say to her?”

“She said the two of you were going to get autographs and I said I didn’t think she’d need autographs to remember this con--I just meant that I was hoping she’d remember all the stuff--she and I--and fuck--she said she had her nightmares--and fuck it.”  He didn’t wait for Jennifer to respond before heading after Emily.  “Ladies?”  He poked his head into the bathroom.  Coast was clear--for the moment.  He headed towards the stalls.  “Ladies?”  No one shrieked, so, still a win.  “Emily?”  He leaned down and saw her sitting on the floor against the wall in the last stall on his right.  “You OK?”

“Do you realize how much trouble you’re going to be in if someone catches you in here?”  Emily scrambled up off the floor.  She unlocked and opened the door, not bothering to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Just needed to make sure you’re alright.”

“Does this look alright to you?”  No, she looked pissed as fuck.  “You are not going to risk your fucking career just to check on my pathetic self.”  She pushed him around and towards the exit.  “I swear to Chuck if you don’t get the fuck out of here, I’m going to strangle you.”

“You swear to Chuck?”  He couldn’t help but laugh.  She was making physical contact with him--albeit out of frustration, but physical contact nonetheless.  

“Don’t laugh at me, you assbutt.  I’m allowed to get into the Supernatural mode.  That’s the whole fucking point of these cons, isn’t it?”  Finally, she had him back out of the bathroom.

“Um, do I want to know?”  Jennifer just stood at the entrance, confusion evident.

“I swear, I fucking hate men.”  Emily stomped past them towards a bench and plopped down.  Without waiting for an invitation, Richard joined her on the bench.  They both stared at the opposing wall.  “I fucking hate you.”  She stated without precedent.

“You know, you could very easily become one of my best friends.”

“Why?  Because I’m the damsel in distress that you get to rescue?”  She spat out, bitterly.

“Because you’re wearing a cheesy porno mustache while manhandling me out of a women’s restroom, not because it’s an invasion of your privacy, but because you don’t want me to fuck up my career by being spotted in there.”

“So, basically, you’re saying I’m a fucking hypocrite about bodily autonomy.”

“Not at all.”  He clarified.  “You know as well as I do that what you did has nothing to do with that.  You did what you did to keep me out of trouble, not because you think you have the right to control me.”

“Yeah, well...you’re too nice for me to let you get in trouble because you wanted to make sure I’m alright.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m far from nice.”  He looked at her from the corner of his eye.

“You are not.”  She turned and glared at him.  “You are probably--no, you are one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.  You didn’t have to do anything for me.  Hell, you didn’t even have to step in when you saw Ty grab me.  No one else did.”

“Then I hope they all burn in hell for just sitting there while he did all that to you.”

“OK, that’s not nice.”

“No, letting a woman get assaulted three feet away from them while not doing a damned thing about it--that is not nice.  That’s fucking evil.  What I did, that was just being a decent human being.”

“Then I’m glad you’re a decent human being.  Even if I still fucking hate you.”  She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, once again, glaring at the wall.

“Can I tell you something?”  He started after a few moments of silence.  “Something that will make everything completely awkward between the two of us and may make you actually hate me?”

“I highly doubt anything you say would actually make me hate you.”  She conceded, but turned to eye him speculatively.  “But give it your best shot.”

“You’re gonna want to remove that mustache because all I can think about is testing to see if it really does tickle when you kiss someone with a mustache.”

“Oh my god.”

“Told you.”

“I swear, I fucking hate you.”  She ripped off the mustache.  “This means Jen was right!”

“And, you’ve lost me.”  Finally, he turned to look at her.

“She said we should go as Crowley and Growley.  And now that I am sans mustache, no one is going to know who I’m supposed to be.  You have effectively just ruined my costume.”  He smiled as she ranted.

“You’re supposed to be you.  No one else.  You couldn’t be anyone better than you.”  He sighed.

“I’m a highly paranoid mess with PTSD and probably a few other disorders thrown in.  There’s a lot of people better than me.”

“Not from where I’m sitting.”  His smile held a sad quality to it and he turned to face the wall again.

“I heard you.”  She began after a few moments, chewing on her bottom lip.  “I heard your phone call last night.  I don’t know everything that was said, but I think I got the gist of it.”

“OK.”  Was he supposed to apologize?  Was he supposed to pretend she’d misinterpreted it?

“And if I heard right, you think there might be something between us?”  Was that hope in her voice?  Was that just his imagination playing tricks?

“I don’t know.”  He shrugged, unable to look over at her.

“I think--” She had to know she was killing him with her pause.  “I think Felicia is right.  I need time.  And I think you need to figure out if this isn’t just some hero complex you’re feeling.”  She turned to face the wall again.

“OK.”  Really, what the fuck was he supposed to say?

“But, I think, in just the few days we’ve spent together, you’ve already become one of my best friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Not many people I’d manhandle out of a women’s restroom like that.  It’d have to be someone I genuinely cared about.”  He felt the corners of his mouth turn up.  It was then, he noticed movement on the bench between them.  He looked down to see her hand placed between them, palm up, fingers outstretched.  She was offering to lace their fingers together?  

Without looking over at her, he moved his hand over hers--certainly, he could play it off as an accident if this wasn’t what she had in mind.  Before he could make full contact, she moved her hand up and grabbed his, lacing their fingers together, before tugging his hand back down so they were resting on the bench.  Cheesiness be damned, this had to be the highlight of the entire con for him.

“How’d you know it was Felicia I was talking to?”

“Oh, I heard Jared and Jensen too.  And something about me being a surrogate and everyone wanting to know how I’m doing.  Your volume was up pretty fucking loud.”  She smiled.  “There’s no shame in it.  As I understand, everyone’s hearing starts to go as they get older.”

“It’s a good thing I like you.”  He shook his head.

“So, another con has come to an end.”  Richard sighed.  “There’s been good times and bad, lots of laughs, a few faux pas, and a general sense that this room is filled with one big family.  But before I sign off, I just want to share with all of you a letter I received from Ty.”  He pulled a folded paper from his jacket pocket and snapped it open.  “He’s given the OK that I share this, and while I’m going to omit a few of the more personal details, I want to read this to you all before you go.”

From where she was, Emily could see that about a third of the letter had been highlighted.  Please, dear god, leave her name out of it.

“‘I want to express how deeply sorry I am that I missed out on being there for the fans.  But I want them to know that it is not out of lack of caring that I am missing this year’s con.  I want them to know that I’ve checked myself into a rehab clinic here to work on my addiction to alcohol.  God, it’s hard to write that word--addiction.  You don’t really realize you’ve got a problem until someone else spells it out for you.  But I’m going to get better.  Maybe not for me, but I’ve got two little girls who deserve a better father than the one they currently have.  And I’m finally beginning to realize just how much pain I’ve caused to other people in my life.  I can’t express enough how sorry I am for what I did.’” Emily felt Jennifer squeeze her hand.  “‘I hope, in time, I can be forgiven, but I will understand completely if that’s impossible.  I love you all.’”

The crowd was on their feet, cheering.  A few even started chanting “Benny, Benny!”

“You did it.”  Emily looked at Jennifer in surprise.  “He’s going to get clean and he’s never going to harm another person again.  And that’s because of what you did.  Because you stood up to him.  Because you made him realize it was the right thing to do.”  Despite the tears that had begun leaking down her cheeks, Emily grinned.

 

“You do realize, I feel really fucking ridiculous signing this for you.”  Richard began, even as he pulled out his Sharpee.  “We’ve spent the whole con practically glued at the hip and it all gets summed up with a cheesy signature on a cheesy photo.”  He scrawled his name across the glossy portrait of himself in the same get-up Emily was sporting--mustache back in place across her upper lip.

“Don’t be silly.”  Out of all the people she’d met this trip, this was the last goodbye she had to make, and by far, the hardest.  “This isn’t the end.  I have every intention of dragging Jennifer back here next year, even though she’ll probably be married off and pregnant or something equally as horrific.”  Jennifer stuck her tongue out at Emily, who only offered her a smug grin.  

“Oh, the horror.”  Richard stuck the cap back on his marker and shoved it into his pocket.  “I definitely hope you’ll be back next year.  But I’ll understand if you aren’t.”  He gave her a weak smile.  “You’ve got everything?”

“You already programmed your number into my phone.  I’m good.”  Jennifer made a gagging noise before stopping suddenly.

“Wait!  Is Mark still here???  I need to find your beanie!”  Jennifer dashed down the hall, running past the few fans that had hung on into the wee hours of the morning.

“Hate to break it to her, but that beanie is long gone.”

“What?”  Emily looked bewildered.

“Oh, crap, I forgot to tell you--Jared took it when he, Jensen and Felicia left to go back to shoot.  When he realized part of it glowed in the dark, he snagged it and told me to ask you for how much you want for it--he’ll send the money to whatever address you want him to.”

“He took my magic hat?!?!”  Emily squawked.  “That fucker!  Mark-fucking-Sheppard wore that hat and that fucking moose stole it from me!”

“And this--this is why I’m pretty sure I could very easily fall in love with you.”  Richard laughed.

“Two things.  One, you tell Moose I want my hat back, magic still intact.  I will make him another one, all of it glow in the dark if he sends me my magic one back.  And two,” she sighed and held out her hand, which he readily accepted, “Next year?  We’ll see where we stand next year.  OK?”

“I can live with that.”  She leaned up and kissed his cheek.  The mustache did indeed tickle a bit.

“Maybe next year, we can upgrade that for the complete test.”  Without warning, she let go of his hand and wrapped her arms around his waist.  “Thank you, for everything.”  He carefully wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

“Anytime, beautiful.”  

*****End Sunday*****

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit, I learned something while writing this--I had no idea the number of things people say that could be potentially triggering to someone with PTSD. I feel like those of us who don't have it take for granted how what we think is just a simple comment can devastate someone who has PTSD. Trying to look at everything that the other characters said and did through the POV of someone who is already relapsing but trying so damned hard to keep it together and just be normal instead of the broken individual she feels like--I'll be honest, I made myself cry writing parts of this.
> 
>  
> 
> And as I told you before, V--I hope you like it and I hope it puts a smile on your face. Love you.


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